


The Thing About Crossword Puzzles

by connnorwalsh



Category: How to Get Away with Murder
Genre: M/M, and connor being stubborn about stuff, fluff fluff fluff, so all the good stuff really
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-27
Updated: 2015-01-27
Packaged: 2018-03-09 08:33:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,422
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3243131
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/connnorwalsh/pseuds/connnorwalsh
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Connor doesn’t do crosswords anyway. Because they’re just, like, impossible. Which really means they’re lame and shouldn’t be done by anyone.<br/>Then again, there used to be a point where he felt the same about Oliver, and as much as it still sort of burns him to admit it, yes, that’s past tense. Used to. Does no longer consider Oliver the way he considers crossword puzzles.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Thing About Crossword Puzzles

**Author's Note:**

> I tried? + too nervous to read through before posting tbh but there was inofficial beta friends involved so it might not be terrible, find out for yaself

The thing about crosswords is, Connor’s not-- he’s not _interested_ in them, which is a completely honest way to phrase it. While still upholding his pride, of course, because Connor is intelligent as fuck, and he wouldn’t - _couldn’t_ \- ever imply that a test of knowledge and linguistic wit has beaten him on several occasions. Several, as in those few times he tried to solve one, became frustrated, googled a majority of the answers but still came out with empty squares, staring provokingly at him with their blindingly white-- squareness.

So, thing is, Connor doesn't do crosswords anyway. Because they’re just, like, impossible. Which really means they’re lame and shouldn’t be done by anyone.

Then again, there used to be a point where he felt the same about Oliver, and as much as it still sort of burns him to admit it, _yes_ , that’s past tense. _Used to._ Does no longer consider Oliver the way he considers crossword puzzles. Because at some stupid point in time, Oliver went from being a seemingly easy challenge, to a subconscious but small obsession, to an aggravating subject, to-- to _impossible_. Thing is, Connor still finds the whole-- the whole _thing_ with Oliver completely impossible, but the difference between Oliver and crossword puzzles is that there seems to be nothing in Connor that wants to give up. He hasn’t _thrown_ Oliver away, hasn’t vowed to never ever touch him again (God forbid, no, really) and his interest just seems to get more and more intense, the more impossible the situation seems.

Once, he considers flowers. That’s before he realises that Oliver isn’t some stupid one-night stand who’s got his brain tucked neatly into his boxers.

No, Oliver is _highly intelligent_ , and in addition, he’s very interesting. He’s got loads of hobbies, Connor’s positive about this, although it’s sort of difficult to find out which ones they are without actually-- getting to know him. And getting to know a guy he’s already slept with is new. It’s difficult. A proper challenge, and that’s where he hesitates.

He wants to amaze Oliver. He wants to see his face light up at something Connor says, or does, wants to completely, but ever so casually, make him feel a tiny bit in lo-- well, no, but. Like Connor feels. Which is just, a crush, or something. Whatever, it doesn’t matter what Connor feels. It’s much better to focus on what he wants, and really, for the first time in, oh, ever, he wants to make Oliver smile. A bit extra. It doesn’t matter why he wants that. It’s not important. Anyway.

It takes a lot of time to figure these things out, though, especially because it’s new. Connor’s a smart guy, and he _will_ figure something out - and soon, too. Until then, though, he settles for the next best thing besides that a-bit-extra smile he wants to see. The next best thing right now is really the best thing he has going on - Oliver in general.

“Do that again,” he orders immediately after Oliver turns away. "That thing."

“What? What thing?” He only barely returns his look (stare, ahem), eyes already focused on his laptop screen. _God_ , Connor thinks for the third time in ten minutes, _he’s gorgeous like this. Working, focused, naked._  
“Before you turned,” Connor says. “You did a thing. With your face.” He sounds absolutely stupid, but it seems to provoke the wanted reaction out of Oliver. He smiles widely, dimples showing and his eyes flickering between the screen and Connor.

“Don’t you have any work to do?” he asks, poking his glasses into place even though they seem to move little to not even at all. A faint blush has started to settle on his cheeks. “I mean, anything? Or are you just-- going to stare at me while I do this? You said you don’t even care.”

“See,” Connor says, satisfied to have gotten the smile out of him again. He drapes an arm around Oliver’s shoulders, moving in until their sides are close together. _No distance. This is nice._ “I never said I didn’t care for the view, did I?”

Oliver adjusts his glasses again, again without visible result. “Come on,” he says, “I’m working, right? Helping you out. Don’t-- distract me.” A beautiful thing is, and Connor decides it might be one of his new favourite things about Oliver (or about anything), how the word _distract_ seems like a dirty word when Oliver says it. Evidently, he has to think Connor has nothing but mischief on his mind.

“Oh, am I distracting you?” Connor nearly purrs innocently, unable to keep his own smile away as he places his free hand on Oliver’s nearly-naked thigh.

“I think you’re about to,” Oliver guesses, glancing down at Connor’s hand, fingers playfully tracing circles on the smooth skin.

Connor leans in and whispers in his ear, “I think you’re right.”

From that moment on, whatever work was being done is forgotten for an hour. Or two.

Fine. Maybe three.

* * *

Connor’s stretched out on the couch, listening to the sounds of Oliver preparing tea in the kitchen area. As footsteps approach him, Connor chooses one of his thoughts and asks, “so if you’re into all these--” he hesitates, smiles, “IT things, do you also like math?”  
“Sure I do, of course.” Oliver hands him a cup over the backrest and leans toward it, stirring his tea.

“Sure you do or of course you do?”

Oliver shrugs. “Fine, yeah, I’m geeky like that,” he admits. “Why d’you ask?”

“Do you like sudokus? I like sudokus.” Connor raises to a sitting position and gestures for Oliver to join him on the couch.

“You do?” Oliver lights up a bit as he cuddles up beside Connor. Close. “I have a few sudoku books, actually. I mean, I finished them, but yes, it’s really nice for--” He pauses, then blushes a bit, stirs his tea as he looks away for a moment. “Are you messing with me?”

“What? I would never,” Connor says, even though, yeah, he probably would. And have. It was loads of fun, too. “Don’t you think I can enjoy something like that? ‘Cause I do. I’m in law school, for fuck’s sake.”

“Yeah, but that’s a different-- whatever.” With a gentle smile, Oliver lets one of his hands slip across Connors overarm. A silent gesture Connor doesn’t fully comprehend, but decides he likes. “It’s nice we have something in common, anyway. You know, besides…” He makes a gesture like meaning the two of them in general, but it’s vague.

“Being gay?” Connor suggests teasingly.

“Well.” Oliver sighs. “No. I don’t know. What was your point, even? Do you want today’s paper to solve sudoku puzzles?”

Connor shrugs, mischievous smile still on his face as he takes a sip. He says, “I was just wondering. It’s nice to get to know you, you know. And your interests.” _And you make it so damn hard. Is it this hard usually?_ It’s a mystery, whatever’s going on.

Without any previous indication, Oliver leans in to kiss him. Not passionately, nor deeply, nor a simple peck, really. Something in between, because it lasts no longer than a second, but it feels-- like a lot. The kiss _feels_ a lot.

Connor’s a bit thrown off afterwards, while Oliver seems to quite casually go back to his cup of tea.

“I really would’ve pegged you as a crosswords guy,” he says a bit absentmindedly.

Out of sheer annoyance at the accusation, as well as out of the dramatic effect Connor sometimes enjoys to give his own actions, he slams his cup down in a responsible manner on the coffee table, making sure not to break it. Of course, he realises too late that there is no coffee table, and he simply drops the nearly full cup of tea on the floor, having it crash into pieces on the carpet.

Oliver stares blankly at it, not seeming as shocked as Connor is, which is really quite a lot, thank you. Then he turns to Connor, brows furrowed slightly. Then he turns back to the smashed cup on the floor. And then back to Connor again.

“Okay,” he says slowly, dragging out the word. “We need to go through which topics of conversations you’re okay with, and which ones will make you ruthlessly and without warning break my tableware.”

Maybe he isn’t that impossible, after all. Maybe Connor is really the impossible one.

Regarding relationship stuff, that is.

Crossword puzzles are still the scum of the earth.

 

 


End file.
